


Crying Darkness

by AlphaAquilae



Series: Slice of Life [4]
Category: Hyper Light Drifter
Genre: Angst, Chronic Illness, Family Loss, POV Second Person, Short, Trauma, y'all already know what's up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 17:59:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18299294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaAquilae/pseuds/AlphaAquilae
Summary: An uncomfortable encounter with the things they've lost long ago





	Crying Darkness

The house is yours tonight. Neither the Drifter, nor Alt, nor any other visitor had shown up, and with the moon rising high into the obsidian sky, it was time to lock the door and bid the day farewell. Admittedly, you prefer your home shared with someone, be it friend or stranger. Though sometimes shade and origin get along like toads and otters, you’d take their bickering over the sinister humming of silence any day. You’ve suffered enough solitude to last a lifetime. Maybe two.  
Your bot makes a beeline towards your front door. You ask it to be locked with the usual encryption, the one for which those you trust have the decryption for, and it complies. A moment later, your companion happily buzzes back to its place at your side, and you turn your attention to your final duties before attempting to sleep.  
Close the blinds, check your provisions, drink some water. Between your actions, your armor feels like it comes off all on its own. It feels so much heavier since the time you first donned it, and the reflection you see when you tilt your helmet against the last light burning in the room glares back at you haggardly.  
You toss it on your couch.  
  
The bed embraces you in its cool sheets and blankets, and you begin settling down for the night. There’s still one last habit to follow. You tell your bot to unlock the drawer of your night stand. No one, save for yourself, has access to it. It’s better this way. Easier to avoid questions this way.  
Your hand doesn’t have to search to find what you’re looking for. It deftly grabs the frame of a picture, and you pull it out. Two familiar faces, those of an adult and a child, peer out from behind their shield of glass with a thousand-yard stare. Gently, you clench your teeth, careful not to let that sorrow seep in too deep. You don’t like this photograph. It’s the only one you have.  
You put it back where it belongs, face down.

Your uneasy slumber is harshly disturbed by a sound coming from a different room. You sit up in your bed, uncomfortably warm and far too awake. That noise… like the tired wailing of a small being. Your feet are on the ground before your mind kicks in properly, leading you back to the living room. The wailing grows in volume, suffering and fear now crystallizing from it. Your heart thrums, your legs carry you quicker, mind running wild, scanning, searching for the source. Where. Where is it coming from. Somewhere around here, behind the… couch?  
You peek over the corner of the furniture to see a bundle of blankets leaned against it. Your features soften, your soul breathes out. “Hey,” you speak quietly, hands slowly reaching around the figure. “You should be in bed, shouldn’t you?”  
They don’t stir, only their whining dials down. You scoop them up in that moment, making sure to hold them close to your chest as you walk back to the bedroom, their small hands digging into your shoulder for reassurance. They still murmur quietly in tired protest, but their endurance betrays them, and slowly, you feel them give in to their exhaustion. You put your free hand between their shoulders, making sure they’ll stay put.  
Crossing the threshold to the bedroom, something in your mind stirs. A feeling, an odd premonition of sorts. You look to the bed, expecting to see your partner sleeping there. They are, they are, but. Something’s wrong. You step closer, cautiously, carefully.  
You freeze.  
Numbness tickles your guts as you behold the flecks of pink on the ground with glassy eyes. No… wait, what? This can’t be, they were fine this morning. Where were the signs. Where was the—? Time. They should’ve had more of it, why is this—  
The questions whirl in your mind, making you stumble backwards as you clutch your child closer to yourself. How could you let this happen, how did you not do more to stop it? What... what now? What about the child?  
But you feel it, an answer soaking your shoulder in disgusting warmth. They’re not resting. You cling their small form, fighting tears, fighting to stand.  
**ENDURING LIFE TO REMEMBER; TO SUFFER. THIS PLANE OFFERS NOTHING.**  
The voice booms through your mind, unexpected and explosive, sending you to your knees as your illusion came apart. You squint your eyes shut, clenching your teeth and holding onto something you know isn’t in your arms anymore. You don’t even notice the encroaching darkness until it has all but consumed your immediate surroundings.  
**SEEKING MEANING. RELEVANCE. CRADLING LIES LONG LOST.**  
The empty blanket falls to the ground as you accept your fate. There is no avoiding what comes next. Silently, your hands reach for your weapons, remembering the steps to this dance well known. When you look up, indeed, there it stood. Your shadow come alive.  
**WHY.** , it asks.  
You couldn’t answer, even if it would make a difference. There is no arguing the sickness, you know this, but far be it from letting anyone deny your sorrow. And for now, the anger burning in your chest keeps you moving, and the Shade's audacity only feeds this flame. These memories are not theirs to defile.  
You will never forget. Never forgive. The sickness has taken everything from you, returning the favor is only fair.  
**THE CORPSES OF PREVIOUS FAILURES HAVE NOT STACKED HIGH ENOUGH. YOU TOO SHALL FALL TO SERVE ANOTHER IN THIS ORDEAL IMPOSSIBLE.**  
The battle is unfocused, sloppy at best. Your blades clash, sending sparks flying through the solitude of your mind. The pink blood on your shoulder is never unnoticed. The Shade strikes at you, once, twice, cutting deep, planting doubt in your mind. You tire, miscalculate, and your throat is against your shadow’s blade before you can as much as flinch.  
It rumbles with a strange noise as it holds your life upon the edge of its weapon. If this is to be your end, then so be it.  
**ENDURING LIFE TO REMEMBER; TO SUFFER.** Your shade tips its head down, and you stop sight of a single, pink eye, glowing, and staring into your soul.  **ENDURE THEN, FOOL. JUDGMENT KNOWS NO RUSH.**  
Darkness envelops you in a tidal wave, and you gasp out of your sleep, coughing, and coughing, and coughing, and… wondering how long you can keep doing this.

You don't want to keep doing this.


End file.
